


Gone

by NMartin



Series: Doctor Mechanic [8]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Doctor Mechanic Angst Day, F/F, doctor mechanic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 00:25:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3998932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NMartin/pseuds/NMartin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven Reyes is gone, and she won’t be back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone

She is gone.

The air is cold, you feel goosebumps on your skin. It doesn’t matter now what you do, where you go. Nothing matters anymore. You are lost, in a labyrinth of loneliness, in a maze of solitude. The darkness surrounds you, your mind gets clouded. You feel pain in your chest, the million pieces of your heart scattered. You breathe slowly, trying to remain calm, to not to break down. You feel a ghostly hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you. You close your eyes, thinking of the past, remembering small details about her.

You remember the first time you saw her face, the first time you flirted. You remember the first time you talked to her, when you asked for her number and how she directly took your phone. You remember the first text she sent you, telling you she had your number because she had phoned herself with your cell. You remember the first time she wished you goodnight and you smiled at the screen, and the first time she sent you a good morning text. She had to work while you were still sleeping because it was your day off, and when you woke up you thought you would not see her again, but that text proved you wrong. You remember receiving a text from her two days later, telling you that she had accidentally taken your umbrella and that you had to meet to give it back. You remember that that week had been the sunniest one in the whole month.

You remember how she told you about watching a movie in your house, though you ended up paying no attention to the movie as if you were a teenager again. You remember waking up at the sound of your daughter knocking on your bedroom door, and watching her hide in the bathroom while you put some clothes on. Clarke opened the door and you pretended to be getting ready for work, telling her to go downstairs and start preparing some breakfast. The she walked out of the bathroom and tried to convince you to have a quickie before giving up and sneaking out of the window. You remember how the next week you did the same, and the next one, and many more after that.

You remember the embarrassment in her eyes as she awkwardly asked you on an official date, telling you that she was not able to pay for some fancy restaurant but that maybe you’d like a place she knew. You remember telling her that it was okay, reassuring her as she told you she’d pick you up in her motorbike at eight. You remember dressing up for her, trying to look good, and that she showed up wearing jeans and a plaid shirt. You remember feeling stupid for dressing up so much, but that she hushed you by kissing you and telling you that it was perfect. You remember driving through the city until she stopped the bike and walked you to the rooftop of a skyscraper, telling you that she had a friend who had lent her the key. You remember a table with candles, a perfect meal, the dim lights around you. She had spent all day preparing that, and by the time she was explaining how she had had to fix the lights one by one you could not stand it more and ended up kissing her way too passionately.

You remember the first time you hugged your pillow and imagined it was her, imagining how it would feel to hold her in your arms, smelling the scent of her skin. You remember the first time she told you a joke, and the first time she laughed at your jokes— after rolling her eyes at many bad ones. You remember the way her mouth tilted with disapproval when you did or said something wrong, but she did not have the heart to tell you because she knew you were trying. You remember the way she smiled when you agreed that she was right— though she actually wasn’t and you just did not want to fight. You remember how she pursed her lips when she was mad at you, and how you smiled at her because she was extremely cute when she was angry. Then you’d go and hug her, apologizing and questioning what could you do to fix it.

You remember the way she smiled, a small smirk that turned into a cheeky grin within seconds. You remember the way she spoke about mechanics, of how she would make any car work easily if she had the right pieces, with so much passion that you knew she simply loved her job. You remember how she made you realize that your daughter did not hate you, how teenagers don’t have that much common sense and they are careless and free. You remember how mature she was, despite being so young. You remember your fights, how she used to put you on your place whenever you broke down and anxiety took over you, and the times she was the one to break down. You kneeled next to her and wrapped your arms around her, because the nightmares of her childhood made her feel so scared sometimes.

You sigh, because these memories that you remember are the only ones you have of her, and there will be no more. But still, you smile, the happy moments now going through your mind.

You remember the way she smiled at you when you came to her house once, when she still lived alone and was drowning in unpaid bills, carrying chinese takeout food and an umbrella because it definitely rained too much that night. She convinced you to take off your clothes, saying you could borrow a t-shirt, but you ended up sitting on the couch and eating in your underwear. You were cold and complained about it, and she fixed it by making you forget about the food, the rain and the cold, and simply focus on the feeling of her tongue between your legs. You remember the many moans you let out that night, and the morning after until you finally fell asleep— and woke up two hours later to start your shift at the hospital.

You remember how one night you caught her crying, but she refused to tell you why. She had simply asked you to hold her, and you had. All day, and all night. The next day you had gotten up and taken a shower, but the water did not work. You had furrowed her brows, but she was still asleep so you had not asked if something was wrong and had walked downstairs instead. You had started preparing breakfast, and then had seen an already opened envelope on the table. You had got curious and read it, learning that she had gotten an eviction warning, that she had no water and soon would not have electricity or gas anymore. She had caught you reading, and even if she was mad she had not been able to yell at you, but broken down again.

You remember telling her that you had an idea, something that would benefit the two of you. She had raised a brow in confusion at first, but as you told her your plan she started smiling. Hours later you were moving furniture from your house to her, emptying the small bedroom and letting your daughter meet your girlfriend and future roommate. Clarke had a good job now, she could help pay the rent, and it left the big house just for her. Of course, you had lied and told her she was the daughter of a co-worker, not wanting your daughter to know that you were dating someone her age. You had left the two of them alone, walking back to your now practically empty house.

You remember how she was the one to visit you know, spending more time at your house than at her own, telling you that even if your daughter was nice, she could not beat her mother’s kindness. Or the many hours you spent having sex, of course. You remember how Clarke would visit you some days and you’d go back to hiding your lover in the bathroom, or sneaking out of the windows. You remember how you spent a whole month like that, until you decided it was time to start telling people.

You remember the first family holiday, when in Christmas you had invited some co-workers and their families to have a large celebration and let everyone meet your girlfriend. She had complained about the lack of alcohol at the party, but the many doctors and nurses in the room reminded her that they all were on call that night. No one had judged you, and even if they did you could have not cared less. At first your daughter had felt uncomfortable with the situation, but thankfully her girlfriend had convinced her that it wasn’t that bad after all.

You remember the many dates you had, the many moments you were alone.

You remember that one day at the park, when she had been asked by a neighbor to babysit and she had called you to meet her next to the playground. At first you had not seen her, but soon the image of her playing soccer with two little boys had melted your heart. You had ended up joining them, awkwardly kicking the ball and trying to make the two boys not to roll on the grass and stain their clothes. You remember walking back home with them, wondering if you’d ever have a family with the girl. Would she want to have kids? Would she want to carry them, since it was too late for you? Would she like to have a boy or a girl? Would she want more than one kid?

You remember a date at the movies, when you had gone to watch a movie full of explosions and male characters that went too much to the gym. She had chosen the last row, and soon you were making out like two fifteen year olds as cars raced and crashed ones against others. You did not care, the girl’s lips being the only thing that mattered as she started groping your chest and whispering she needed you. For a moment you thought of doing something that you wouldn’t have done under any circumstances, but a worker of the movie theater interrupted you before you could even make that move. You remember walking out of the building laughing hysterically, saying you were heading home.

You remember the way she kissed you, the way she made you smile, the way her fingertips grazed your skin as she slid your shirt up. You still can hear the way she locked her bedroom door, not wanting her roommate to interrupt. You smirked at that fact, because you know that her roommate was actually your daughter, and rolled your eyes. You closed your eyes shut as she started kissing down your body, from your clavicle to your stomach, slowly kneeling in front of you as she worshipped your body and whispered how gorgeous you were. You tangled your fingers on her hair, pulling her close as you felt her tongue, making sure she did not stop for a long time. You remember feeling your legs weak, your palm pressed tightly against a wall so you wouldn’t fall down as she licked her lips and slowed, finally pulling back and then standing up to kiss your climax away. Then you were being pushed on the small bed and hitting the wall, hissing in pain but not caring because she was now straddling your body and grinding down on your lap, making you feel her need and lust as she kissed you passionately. You remember sitting up and starting to kiss her skin, making her forget about everything else but you, hearing her moans, her whimpers, her screams. You know you’ll miss the many sounds she made, once and again, not stopping for hours as you made love to her until the sun was up, when she would fall asleep in your arms and you would sleep until the afternoon.

You remember your phone ringing and opening your eyes, standing up with emergency as you realized you’d be late for work. You thanked God that you had the evening shift at the hospital that day, and heard her laugh as you put on her underwear instead of yours without realizing it. She would quickly point that out to make you blush, quickly taking the red underwear off and putting on the clean ones you carried in your purse in case of an emergency. You remember her tell you she’d do laundry after she got home from work the next day, to not to worry because she got that, and so you left to the hospital, changing into a scrub and starting your rounds, talking to your patients, smiling when a couple found out their baby was, after a month of uncertainty, healthy. Hours passed, the calm in the hospital telling you it would be a peaceful shift, and then feeling your pager notifying you that there had been a car crash, with a mortal victim and a wounded person. You remember running to the hospital’s door, waiting for the ambulance to arrive, and seeing the vehicle stop and the back doors open, the paramedic giving you details of the person that is bleeding out in front of you. You remember realizing you did not need these details, because you knew the female twenty year old that you were looking at. Gasping and stopping to walk, the confusion of your fellow doctors obvious in their faces as you stopped dead, watching the girl. You remember the fear, the pain, the tears that pooled in your eyes, and how you managed to put all effort into hiding your pain to go save the girl you loved. You remember running through the hospital, getting in the operating room, starting to work on her bleeding body and trying to heal the wounds, stopping the blood from leaving her veins. You were pushing the pain away and focusing, knowing that you could not lose her. You remember doing your job right— but not perfectly, and hearing the beeping stop, the doctor that was standing on the other side of the operating table trying to bring her back to life as you simply looked.

You remember feeling your heart break into a million pieces.

You remember falling to the floor, taking off your gloves and covering your face with your hands, crying on the floor of an operating room. Seconds later a nurse kneeled next to you, hugging you after realizing who the girl that lay lifeless in the center of the room was. You remember being told to stand up, being helped to take off the blood stained scrub, being helped into a small shower of the hospital’s changing room as you sobbed and cried, begging God to bring her back. You remember not feeling okay, knowing that you would never be okay after that. You changed into clean clothes and sat in the waiting room, waiting for someone to come talk to you. Hours passed and you were unable to do anything, because after all you weren’t legally married to her. You remember walking to her house, ringing the bell, seeing your daughter’s face and her smile disappear and be replaced with lips parting, talking to you, asking you what was wrong.

You remember saying _‘Raven is dead’_.

You remember your daughter bombarding you with questions, asking you how it happened, not realizing it was not the moment to do so. Instead of answering you wandered through the house, up to the second floor, pushing the bedroom door open and standing there. She had not made her bed, your underwear was still on the floor, her iPod on the bed. You remember falling on your knees and reach under the bed, taking a small box from a hiding space and opening it, the small but radiant diamond on the ring being so perfectly fitting to her personality and beauty. You remember crying for hours, hugging her pillow, wrapped with the sheets of her bed, smelling the scent of her sweat from them.

You remember how good it felt when she was with you, and how miserable you were now that she isn’t.

You remember days passing but not being aware of anything around you, not eating, not sleeping. It was your daughter the one reminding you to shower or eat something from time to time, but you were unable to see her face even if she was right in front of you. Everything around you was blurred, the sounds were muffled by an invisible force that isolated you from real life. You remember your daughter brushing your hair and dressing you in black, guiding you to the car, driving to the city and parking next to the graveyard. You walked towards the small crowd that already waited there, and you read the name written in a beautiful grey stone, the casket being buried some time later. You remember throwing a red rose inside the grave, and then her friends doing the same one by one before trying to show their sorrow, their compassion towards you before they left. You remember being left alone, your daughter kissing your cheek and telling you to stay if you want.

You wait for a few minutes and sigh, then kneel in front of the grey stone, leaving a bouquet of daisies on the ground. Even if it hurts, something makes you smile. You realize she had a short but good life after all, and that she would not regret a single second of it. You met her almost two years ago, and have gone through so much with her. Your lips part and you speak.

“I remember when I met you, it was such a messy day at the hospital. Your boss had convinced you to come, because you had got cut with some of your tools. You kept telling me you were alright, and flirting with me. You smirked, that smirk of yours that made me want you so much, and then when I was finished said goodbye. The next week, you were there again, because you had had another accident while repairing a car.”

You smile, wiping away your tears, slowly feeling more like yourself. You feel your heart become warmer, no matter how cold the air is. You sigh and raise your hand, your fingertips brushing the words carved on the headstone. A simple epitaph, with a message that makes you smile.

“Raven Reyes. Good friend, better mechanic.” you read out loud. You let out a laugh and start crying, this time not stopping your tears. It hurts, it really does. You feel your heart beat faster, drumming inside your chest, begging to be released out of the cage that are your ribs. You sigh and look at the sky, feeling the rain start to pour on your face. _What a perfect timing,_ you think as the rain mixes with your tears. And you sigh, standing up and crossing your arms. You look at the grave one more time and smile. “I won’t forget you.”

And then you walk away, because no matter how much time you stand there, she won’t be back.


End file.
